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22 Temmuz 2022, 17:17
Daniel, our conversation in the courtyard at my studio yesterday got me thinking. Man, your Catholic guilt's weighing way too heavy on your shoulders. You're telling me you feel guilty that you're fantasizing about somebody else even when the sex with your girlfriend is good. Shit, the imagination is maybe the most miraculous thing about being human. You can't repress it. Treat it like fire, friend. It can warm you all night or burn the house down. I've got a nicely banked fire going all the time, ready to help me sleep or fill the gaps in my bedroom time with the wife. In my sixties the gaps aren't as frustrating as they used to be, and horniness, pleasant though it may be to feel, isn't reciprocated as enthusiastically either. Fact of life, man. The wife and I are both happier when I have a fantasyland to visit now and then. And she's got hers where I think Denzel spends some time.
You remember the woman, Sam, who runs the gallery in this building where I have my studio? I know I've introduced you. The 20-something who's eyes always look a little surprised? Or maybe that's a look of excitement. Anyway, it's engaging. My oldest daughter learned young to make those big-eyes when she wanted something from daddy. Maybe I'm seeing some of that in Sam.
Last Thursday I was finishing up around 2 and, as I headed out with my bag over my shoulder, in the paint-spattered t-shirt and cycling shorts that are my work clothes, I stuck my head in the door of her office. Sam sat at her pristine industrial glass and chrome desk, tapping at her laptop. Behind her, the gilt-framed empire mirror reflected me back as I stood just inside the doorway, looking solid but uncomfortable. It felt like a Zoom meeting, having to see myself while in a conversation. Maybe that's a power move on her part, putting clients a little off balance.
In my head I'm still 40, like you, not the geezer I see in the mirror. No more six-pack, sadly. My reflection prompted me to correct my posture. I stood straighter, chest out, gut in; if I squinted I could still see the stud I used to be.
You've seen how she dresses, Daniel. Sam wore that black dress slit to her hip and a turquoise silk top that flowed like water over her firm little breasts. Not that I noticed. Obviously, I did. Not that I could let on that I noticed. But, Jeez, she learned somewhere in her business education that sex sells. That look on her face never hints that she has any idea the effect on people. She's not overtly flirty - just matter-of-fact sultry.
I'm conscious of the effect on me. The blood flows to my erogenous zones; my fingers tingle, my lips turn hot and dry, my cock starts paying attention, suddenly alert.
So I said, "Hey!" As I often do if she's there. Who doesn't like feeling a little aroused? Her divorced mom, who helps with setting up shows when she visits from Tampa, was just leaving to run a bunch of errands, she said, as she slipped out the door. Obvious where Sam gets her looks and fashion sense. That woman's well put together, too, if a bit rounder than her daughter and with shorter hair. Fills out her jeans in a way that makes me want to mold some clay. Makes my fingertips tingle, too, like Sam. She's always been very friendly, never seemed the least bit phased that her daughter's promoting the erotic paintings of this dirty old man. Not that I ever asked outright what she thought.
As I stood there, Sam and I chatted about the leak in the roof and the calendar for July, carefully planning the gallerie's opening now that we're all vaccinated. I forced myself not to look at her tanned leg, bare to the hipbone under the desk or the silk cascade over her tits. It's a delicious tension, though. We talked about my 'audience', who would purchase my surreal nude men and women and the dreamscape erotica I'd been making during the lockdown, which had, honestly, been a boon to this introvert. Sam noted that I'd trimmed my COVID beard back to it's NYC length, a svelte gray chinstrap that I think makes me look professorial and cultured.
I tried to reign in my physical attraction to the woman, of course, whenever we met. I stayed at least 6 feet away under the guise of social distancing. Tried so hard not to let my eyes roam along the exquisite line of her body. Definitely didn't touch her. Also didn't make comments about her looks, though they sometimes made me light-headed. She definitely had a dress sense and exuded a youthful animal vitality. There was rarely more than a thin layer of fabric draped on her, she showed her midriff offen, her long, straight black hair left to sway freely. She had an energy and lissomeness that I hadn't touched in many years.
I said, about my recent series of paintings, "I'd like to position them in my statement at the next show as 'an exploration of longing across the physical, emotional and spiritual'. I can say that they 'interrogate the multi-valent and multi-layered calling to each of us to join with other bodies, all of nature and the divine, to fill that God-shaped hole, if pinbahis güvenilirmi (https://hocanonbo.com/category/pinbahis/) you like, that's part of what makes humans a unique species.' "
"Some women think you've caught not only the male gaze, but also the female gaze. Are you getting good feedback during open studio?" she asked, leaning back in her chair. The silk shifted languidly with her.
"I bet two in a hundred people feel comfortable talking about what my stuff touches in them. Those conversations are great, but few and far between. I hope, post-lockdown, we get more traffic and I get more meaningful conversations. Right now, I'm kinda working in the dark." Hands in my pockets, I looked at the floor as I marshalled my thoughts. Looking at Sam fogged my brain.
"Well, I ought to tell you what I've been seeing, then," she said. She rose from her chair and flowed on 3-inch heels around the desk and me to the door. Locked it. Turned and looked at me, her big eyes smiling, hand at the top button of her blouse.
"Your work really speaks to me," she said. "Your eroticism is earthy, but it's clearly about real women, not adolescent fantasies." Sam unfastened one, then two buttons showing skin down to her navel. "Let me see what the man behind the brush can do. Touch me with the hands that make such beauty."
"What?," I replied, taken aback. "Aren't I a creepy old guy to you?" I can't say that part of me didn't want to pull her into my arms and strip her down to the exquisite youthful nymph I imagined. I also imagined that if I'd shown any kind of lust for her I'd get shot down and lose a studio.
"I want your eyes on me the way you look at your models. I want your hands to caress me the way your brush caresses the canvas. "Draw me like one of your French girls"," she said archly, letting the silk slide from her shoulders and stood, pointed breasts proud. "You know your way around a woman. From your paintings it's clear you see the real woman in front of you and you respect her. I see in you the longing you just talked about. I'd like some of that attention on me, some of that longing for me." She was serious. I sure was wrong. Then she took my right hand, pirouetted into my arms and, pressing her butt into me and laying my hand onto a breast, said "We've got some time. Let's make the most of it".
I rose to the occasion, of course, in body if not as unashamedly in spirit. "This hasn't happened in a long time", I said, shaking. The marble-hard nipple in my palm called me to pinch it. I leaned down over her shoulder to her ear and pulled her body against mine, the two thin layers of silky fabric all that separated her firm derriere from the thickening member hanging down my thigh.
"I've been afraid to ask you to model for me..." my lips on her downy cheek.
"No kissing", she breathed, "just sex. And shut up now".
Sam took two steps to the desk, bent over the bare glass and pulled her dress to the side, showed me her smooth, tanned ass and a strip of crimson thong. The heels put a cant to her hips that had her mound protruding, red silk dark. She gripped the edge of the desk and said, 'It's yours. I'm pretty sure you know what to do."
I did, Daniel, I did.
I eased down to one knee behind her and sank my teeth ever so gently into a butt cheek as I ran one tingling fingertip up along her inner thigh, the other hand worming under the thong and easing it aside. Man, the aroma, the silky, peach fuzz skin, the warm, moist flesh trembling in my hands had my heart racing, my breath shallow and quick. I ran a fingertip down that smooth, slick crease between her cheeks and she squirmed. I teased at her bud, slid lightly across her labia, the inner swollen and wet, the outer full and smooth-shaven. She slowly gyrated her hips, small gasps already coming from her parted mouth.
My tongue followed that finger, slicking the trail from coxyx to clit. Always go gentle into that dark cleft, not pressing with rough fingers, but with a butterfly tongue dripping. I licked to part her lips just enough to gather some of her thick juices, sweet and sour. She wriggled, moaned, whined a little. My one hand massaged her lower back and the other caressed the slippery smoothness of her inner thigh. Circling my fingers in the wetness running down there I just teased at her mound while my tongue did a little dance on her clit, coaxing it from its hood. She jumped a little, walked her feet apart.
"I'm wet enough. Don't tease me any longer."
I stood and wiped my face on the back of my arm, pulling up the leg of my shorts with the other. Gripping my stiff cock I leaned back and took an appraising look at her vulva, swollen and wet, nested between her perfect ass cheeks, ready for, eager for me. Truly this hadn't happened in a long time. Daniel, I've got to tell you that married sex in your sixties is a comfort, is a part of a deep bonding, but it's not driven, not acrobatic, not spontaneous, even. I haven't had sex with a twenty-something since I was a twenty-something. The libido pinbahis yeni giriş (https://hocanonbo.com/category/pinbahis/) is an entirely different animal in the second half of life than in the first half. One thing I knew was that I didn't need to be in a hurry with Sam. In fact, if anything the 'stamina' of my older body would be a blessing for us both.
She waggled impatiently before me and I dragged my dick through the dripping channel I'd just been drooling all over. Finding her socket easily, I pressed myself down, let the wide wedge of my glans slowly part her flesh, felt the heat surround me and her folds accept me. Sam made a deep MMMMmmmmmm and pressed back steadily, letting me sink.
"I knew you had a fat one," she sighed. I let our bodies gradually merge, the enveloping wetness growing until I felt my balls up against her sticky hot skin. Then I rested there as she squirmed on my pole. This is where all that bicycling pays off.
I pulled back slowly, too. I wanted her to feel each bump and vein of me. For me it was a five-alarm fire, sirens blaring in my head from the electric pulse of her pussy squeezing me as she spasmed. I pressed in more urgently, pushing her pelvis down on the desk with both hands so she couldn't thrust back. Her dress and blouse crumpled around her waist, her black hair splayed across the desk, Sam raised her head to groan, a white-knuckled grip on the chrome. In the mirror I rose above her round bottom and watched her peel those breasts from the glass til her pointy little nips dragged on the desktop, our faces each veiled with lust.
Buried in her again, I heard the key in the lock of the door behind me and I froze, dick deep. Her mother, reflected in the golden mirror, swung the door in, stepped in smiling and closed it. Time stood still as I searched for words. This was worse than any rejection I'd imagined if propositioning Sam. I was sure I was going to be shamed for sticking it in a woman two generations my junior and by another, her mother, with every right to be outraged, the one who caught me. Even though we were both still all but dressed, there was no way to pretend this wasn't exactly what it looked like.
"Fifteen minutes was about right." said Sam. Was this a trap?
"Listening's got me hot and bothered," replied her mom, hands on hips, looking not angry but intent at our standing-doggy tableau, "and the keyhole gives a lousy view.". I was frozen but Sam kept wiggling.
"Mom wants some of you, too. I didn't want to scare you off, so we sneaked up on you. Sorry. Also, it's kind of a mother's day present." she said while practicing her kegels on me. Now, Daniel, I had a couple of three-ways when I was young and stupid and hair-triggered. They hadn't met my expectations. Or those of my partners for that matter. I never dreamed I'd get a do-over, had given up the idea except to imagine how I could have done it better. Kept that as one of the embers of that fire of fantasy. How could I say no now???
"Well, shit. Shit, I ... Damn." was all I could say. The ladies knew what I meant.
"Let's get you less dressed, OK?" mom said and stepped behind me to pull my t-shirt over my head. I let go of Sam for a minute to allow it and the young woman thrust back. I grabbed her again, held her still.
"Honey, I don't want to see that nice dress ruined, Let me get that off of you," offered her mom.
And mom then deftly found the snap and whisked it away. "This thong isn't helping. And those shorts - please." She pushed me back and I slid out of her daughter, springing up glistening. Mom worked Sam's soaked thong down her legs, sinking down with them. On her knees then she grabbed my cock and pulled it down to let my shorts past. I did a little two-step and mom turned me to her mouth. Her body still covered by the jeans and chambray shirt, her daughter and I stark naked, she stretched her lips over my glistening crown. Like fire on my cock her lips stretched and popped over the corona, her tongue diddling the tip.
Backing off she said, "Mmmm, tasty, but too big."
"I know," said Sam, "wait till he's in you."
Truly another reason fantasy is a good thing, Daniel - my best blowjobs have been imaginary ones. I'm too wide to avoid a woman's teeth and it's uncomfortable for them to open so wide for very long.
"Well, I'll come back to that," breathed mom. With her wide tongue she got me good and wet, aimed me into Sam and I pressed slowly into the slim woman. Sam MMMMmmmmm'd again. Then mom rose, unbuttoning her shirt. Now, where to look? At the lithe and frantic daughter trying to be one with my cock or the more voluptuous mother in the mirror peeling off the blouse and black lacy bra beside me? A well-filled bra it was, too. Her breasts hung heavy, definitely a pair that had been suckled, but full and with nipples jutting upward, dark and thick.
Quickly she wiggled out of her jeans and panties, then pulled my head down and kissed me, leaning those jugs into my arm, hot and soft, running a hand through my chest hairs, brushing pinbahis giriş (https://hocanonbo.com/category/pinbahis/) my nipples. I felt her bush grind into my thigh, got a taste of the salty musk on her lips - Sam's juices and mine.
"'So he fills you good, Sam?" she said, reaching down to where daughter and I were joined. "How's this?' And she divided two fingers around my cock, running one down each side into the seams of Sam's sopping vulva, making a tight passage for me. Sam groaned, "yeah, right there." I slowly dragged in then out, catching my corona on those fingers, then pushing back in to the heat.
"You know the clitoris is a larger organ than they taught us in school, "mom said, "She's got arms that run back around the mouth of the pussy and extend back up inside." Mom slowly sawed her fingers up and down the crease, curling and pressing knuckles against Sam's labia, locking eyes with her daughter in the mirror. Sam shook and mewed, raised her head and howled in orgasm while mom kneaded our union with one hand and gripped my ass with the other.
"See what the right pressure in the right place does?," mom smiled, watching her daughter shudder through a cascade of peaks as I kept up a steady, firm thrusting. "This man's like an old bull, honey. Legs like trees, ass like a rock, steady as a freight train."
As Sam softened, mom took her dripping fingers and presented them to my mouth. I sucked the two in, used my tongue to tease the web between them, tasting Sam and me again. "Make me wet," said mom, wiping those fingers through her own snatch and offering them to me again.
"Gee, mom, aren't you always wet?" teased Sam. I gave those fingers a couple more mouthfuls, mom smeared herself, turned to lie on the desk beside her daughter, took her hand and said, "my turn."
I obliged. Took my purple tool and found mom's hot, wet center. She had more cushion for the pushin' but she was tight and hot and slippery. Pressing in slowly, I was engulfed. The two women looked into each other's eyes as I pumped.
"Thick, right?" said Sam, smiling, her free hand cupping her red, swollen pussy.
"Yep, I'm full". Mom jiggled, I thrust, flesh squeaked along the glass. Sam rose and lay her cheek on her mom's ass, looking at me hungrily, half-lidded. "We should form 'The Ladies Bull Riding Society'", she mused as I kept the rhythm.
"I want to taste you, too," said Sam, and she pressed back on my hip til I was out and wagging at her mouth. She opened and took my knob gently between her lips, running her tongue around it. I held it there, let her savor it, until she grasped me and pressed me back into her mom again. Drool ran down mom's ass-cleft and Sam brought a finger to the rosebud and caressed it. I felt fingers tickling my balls and knew Sam was attending to her mom's clit, too. Seems like these two had done this together before, don'tcha think, Daniel?
Sam slipped the tip of a finger in her mom's ass and the older woman AAAaahhhh'd. "Now I'm fuller. So good," she sighed. Each time I eased myself in my pubes drove Sam's finger into her ass and I felt the knuckle as my corona slid deep. She was even tighter now and I drove harder, faster, our flanks slapping, sweat running. Mom shook and grunted, face red and tight in climax, hair plastered to her forehead, making nonsense noises, hissing spit.
Sam leaned to her moms' ear as the older woman sagged. "Happy mother's day, sexy." she whispered.
"You know what's cool?" Sam said, looking at our sweaty tangle of bodies in the mirror, "your friend Daniel's masturbating to this right now."
"What?" I panted.
"Well, it's your fantasy. We're your fantasy. And you're describing this all to Daniel, so why wouldn't he be?"
Honestly, Daniel, I hope you are yankin' your crank and I hope you're doing it guilt-free. But my brain's too sex-fogged to unravel this Inception-level puzzle. Maybe we can pitch the idea to Christopher Nolan one day.
"What if Daniel were coming over to one of your courtyard meetings?," asked Sam, "and you forgot so he came looking for you and walked in here? I'd like that next time."
"Oooh, me too!" gasped mom as I twitched in her. I guess I liked the idea, too.
"Next time we'll do some bull riding, OK, mom?" Sam said, hand on her shoulder, "but this time let's end him with dueling harmonicas."
"Yeah, I'm good with that." mom said and looked back at me. "Lay out here on the desk, my minotaur." So I did. I slid out of mom, eased back on the warm, wet glass and let my legs hang. My cock, wet and red and stiff lay on my belly, dripping.
The Lady Bull Riders came at me from both sides, arms resting on my body, as Sam grasped my sticky cock and raised it to her mother's smiling mouth. Too big for one, I'm enough for two creative women. A pair of lips sliding up each side of my tool, they worked their mouths and tongues along my ridges and pulsing shaft, slowly rising to share the head, tongues fluttering around, pressing, sucking, stroking in the ooze of each of their pussies. I was nearing my end, too, and fluids leaked steadily. The women licked it up, grinning at each other as they brought me closer. They knew exactly what to do. I got a breast in each hand, one small and tight, the other heavy and full and felt their hard nipples against my tingling palms.
You remember the woman, Sam, who runs the gallery in this building where I have my studio? I know I've introduced you. The 20-something who's eyes always look a little surprised? Or maybe that's a look of excitement. Anyway, it's engaging. My oldest daughter learned young to make those big-eyes when she wanted something from daddy. Maybe I'm seeing some of that in Sam.
Last Thursday I was finishing up around 2 and, as I headed out with my bag over my shoulder, in the paint-spattered t-shirt and cycling shorts that are my work clothes, I stuck my head in the door of her office. Sam sat at her pristine industrial glass and chrome desk, tapping at her laptop. Behind her, the gilt-framed empire mirror reflected me back as I stood just inside the doorway, looking solid but uncomfortable. It felt like a Zoom meeting, having to see myself while in a conversation. Maybe that's a power move on her part, putting clients a little off balance.
In my head I'm still 40, like you, not the geezer I see in the mirror. No more six-pack, sadly. My reflection prompted me to correct my posture. I stood straighter, chest out, gut in; if I squinted I could still see the stud I used to be.
You've seen how she dresses, Daniel. Sam wore that black dress slit to her hip and a turquoise silk top that flowed like water over her firm little breasts. Not that I noticed. Obviously, I did. Not that I could let on that I noticed. But, Jeez, she learned somewhere in her business education that sex sells. That look on her face never hints that she has any idea the effect on people. She's not overtly flirty - just matter-of-fact sultry.
I'm conscious of the effect on me. The blood flows to my erogenous zones; my fingers tingle, my lips turn hot and dry, my cock starts paying attention, suddenly alert.
So I said, "Hey!" As I often do if she's there. Who doesn't like feeling a little aroused? Her divorced mom, who helps with setting up shows when she visits from Tampa, was just leaving to run a bunch of errands, she said, as she slipped out the door. Obvious where Sam gets her looks and fashion sense. That woman's well put together, too, if a bit rounder than her daughter and with shorter hair. Fills out her jeans in a way that makes me want to mold some clay. Makes my fingertips tingle, too, like Sam. She's always been very friendly, never seemed the least bit phased that her daughter's promoting the erotic paintings of this dirty old man. Not that I ever asked outright what she thought.
As I stood there, Sam and I chatted about the leak in the roof and the calendar for July, carefully planning the gallerie's opening now that we're all vaccinated. I forced myself not to look at her tanned leg, bare to the hipbone under the desk or the silk cascade over her tits. It's a delicious tension, though. We talked about my 'audience', who would purchase my surreal nude men and women and the dreamscape erotica I'd been making during the lockdown, which had, honestly, been a boon to this introvert. Sam noted that I'd trimmed my COVID beard back to it's NYC length, a svelte gray chinstrap that I think makes me look professorial and cultured.
I tried to reign in my physical attraction to the woman, of course, whenever we met. I stayed at least 6 feet away under the guise of social distancing. Tried so hard not to let my eyes roam along the exquisite line of her body. Definitely didn't touch her. Also didn't make comments about her looks, though they sometimes made me light-headed. She definitely had a dress sense and exuded a youthful animal vitality. There was rarely more than a thin layer of fabric draped on her, she showed her midriff offen, her long, straight black hair left to sway freely. She had an energy and lissomeness that I hadn't touched in many years.
I said, about my recent series of paintings, "I'd like to position them in my statement at the next show as 'an exploration of longing across the physical, emotional and spiritual'. I can say that they 'interrogate the multi-valent and multi-layered calling to each of us to join with other bodies, all of nature and the divine, to fill that God-shaped hole, if pinbahis güvenilirmi (https://hocanonbo.com/category/pinbahis/) you like, that's part of what makes humans a unique species.' "
"Some women think you've caught not only the male gaze, but also the female gaze. Are you getting good feedback during open studio?" she asked, leaning back in her chair. The silk shifted languidly with her.
"I bet two in a hundred people feel comfortable talking about what my stuff touches in them. Those conversations are great, but few and far between. I hope, post-lockdown, we get more traffic and I get more meaningful conversations. Right now, I'm kinda working in the dark." Hands in my pockets, I looked at the floor as I marshalled my thoughts. Looking at Sam fogged my brain.
"Well, I ought to tell you what I've been seeing, then," she said. She rose from her chair and flowed on 3-inch heels around the desk and me to the door. Locked it. Turned and looked at me, her big eyes smiling, hand at the top button of her blouse.
"Your work really speaks to me," she said. "Your eroticism is earthy, but it's clearly about real women, not adolescent fantasies." Sam unfastened one, then two buttons showing skin down to her navel. "Let me see what the man behind the brush can do. Touch me with the hands that make such beauty."
"What?," I replied, taken aback. "Aren't I a creepy old guy to you?" I can't say that part of me didn't want to pull her into my arms and strip her down to the exquisite youthful nymph I imagined. I also imagined that if I'd shown any kind of lust for her I'd get shot down and lose a studio.
"I want your eyes on me the way you look at your models. I want your hands to caress me the way your brush caresses the canvas. "Draw me like one of your French girls"," she said archly, letting the silk slide from her shoulders and stood, pointed breasts proud. "You know your way around a woman. From your paintings it's clear you see the real woman in front of you and you respect her. I see in you the longing you just talked about. I'd like some of that attention on me, some of that longing for me." She was serious. I sure was wrong. Then she took my right hand, pirouetted into my arms and, pressing her butt into me and laying my hand onto a breast, said "We've got some time. Let's make the most of it".
I rose to the occasion, of course, in body if not as unashamedly in spirit. "This hasn't happened in a long time", I said, shaking. The marble-hard nipple in my palm called me to pinch it. I leaned down over her shoulder to her ear and pulled her body against mine, the two thin layers of silky fabric all that separated her firm derriere from the thickening member hanging down my thigh.
"I've been afraid to ask you to model for me..." my lips on her downy cheek.
"No kissing", she breathed, "just sex. And shut up now".
Sam took two steps to the desk, bent over the bare glass and pulled her dress to the side, showed me her smooth, tanned ass and a strip of crimson thong. The heels put a cant to her hips that had her mound protruding, red silk dark. She gripped the edge of the desk and said, 'It's yours. I'm pretty sure you know what to do."
I did, Daniel, I did.
I eased down to one knee behind her and sank my teeth ever so gently into a butt cheek as I ran one tingling fingertip up along her inner thigh, the other hand worming under the thong and easing it aside. Man, the aroma, the silky, peach fuzz skin, the warm, moist flesh trembling in my hands had my heart racing, my breath shallow and quick. I ran a fingertip down that smooth, slick crease between her cheeks and she squirmed. I teased at her bud, slid lightly across her labia, the inner swollen and wet, the outer full and smooth-shaven. She slowly gyrated her hips, small gasps already coming from her parted mouth.
My tongue followed that finger, slicking the trail from coxyx to clit. Always go gentle into that dark cleft, not pressing with rough fingers, but with a butterfly tongue dripping. I licked to part her lips just enough to gather some of her thick juices, sweet and sour. She wriggled, moaned, whined a little. My one hand massaged her lower back and the other caressed the slippery smoothness of her inner thigh. Circling my fingers in the wetness running down there I just teased at her mound while my tongue did a little dance on her clit, coaxing it from its hood. She jumped a little, walked her feet apart.
"I'm wet enough. Don't tease me any longer."
I stood and wiped my face on the back of my arm, pulling up the leg of my shorts with the other. Gripping my stiff cock I leaned back and took an appraising look at her vulva, swollen and wet, nested between her perfect ass cheeks, ready for, eager for me. Truly this hadn't happened in a long time. Daniel, I've got to tell you that married sex in your sixties is a comfort, is a part of a deep bonding, but it's not driven, not acrobatic, not spontaneous, even. I haven't had sex with a twenty-something since I was a twenty-something. The libido pinbahis yeni giriş (https://hocanonbo.com/category/pinbahis/) is an entirely different animal in the second half of life than in the first half. One thing I knew was that I didn't need to be in a hurry with Sam. In fact, if anything the 'stamina' of my older body would be a blessing for us both.
She waggled impatiently before me and I dragged my dick through the dripping channel I'd just been drooling all over. Finding her socket easily, I pressed myself down, let the wide wedge of my glans slowly part her flesh, felt the heat surround me and her folds accept me. Sam made a deep MMMMmmmmmm and pressed back steadily, letting me sink.
"I knew you had a fat one," she sighed. I let our bodies gradually merge, the enveloping wetness growing until I felt my balls up against her sticky hot skin. Then I rested there as she squirmed on my pole. This is where all that bicycling pays off.
I pulled back slowly, too. I wanted her to feel each bump and vein of me. For me it was a five-alarm fire, sirens blaring in my head from the electric pulse of her pussy squeezing me as she spasmed. I pressed in more urgently, pushing her pelvis down on the desk with both hands so she couldn't thrust back. Her dress and blouse crumpled around her waist, her black hair splayed across the desk, Sam raised her head to groan, a white-knuckled grip on the chrome. In the mirror I rose above her round bottom and watched her peel those breasts from the glass til her pointy little nips dragged on the desktop, our faces each veiled with lust.
Buried in her again, I heard the key in the lock of the door behind me and I froze, dick deep. Her mother, reflected in the golden mirror, swung the door in, stepped in smiling and closed it. Time stood still as I searched for words. This was worse than any rejection I'd imagined if propositioning Sam. I was sure I was going to be shamed for sticking it in a woman two generations my junior and by another, her mother, with every right to be outraged, the one who caught me. Even though we were both still all but dressed, there was no way to pretend this wasn't exactly what it looked like.
"Fifteen minutes was about right." said Sam. Was this a trap?
"Listening's got me hot and bothered," replied her mom, hands on hips, looking not angry but intent at our standing-doggy tableau, "and the keyhole gives a lousy view.". I was frozen but Sam kept wiggling.
"Mom wants some of you, too. I didn't want to scare you off, so we sneaked up on you. Sorry. Also, it's kind of a mother's day present." she said while practicing her kegels on me. Now, Daniel, I had a couple of three-ways when I was young and stupid and hair-triggered. They hadn't met my expectations. Or those of my partners for that matter. I never dreamed I'd get a do-over, had given up the idea except to imagine how I could have done it better. Kept that as one of the embers of that fire of fantasy. How could I say no now???
"Well, shit. Shit, I ... Damn." was all I could say. The ladies knew what I meant.
"Let's get you less dressed, OK?" mom said and stepped behind me to pull my t-shirt over my head. I let go of Sam for a minute to allow it and the young woman thrust back. I grabbed her again, held her still.
"Honey, I don't want to see that nice dress ruined, Let me get that off of you," offered her mom.
And mom then deftly found the snap and whisked it away. "This thong isn't helping. And those shorts - please." She pushed me back and I slid out of her daughter, springing up glistening. Mom worked Sam's soaked thong down her legs, sinking down with them. On her knees then she grabbed my cock and pulled it down to let my shorts past. I did a little two-step and mom turned me to her mouth. Her body still covered by the jeans and chambray shirt, her daughter and I stark naked, she stretched her lips over my glistening crown. Like fire on my cock her lips stretched and popped over the corona, her tongue diddling the tip.
Backing off she said, "Mmmm, tasty, but too big."
"I know," said Sam, "wait till he's in you."
Truly another reason fantasy is a good thing, Daniel - my best blowjobs have been imaginary ones. I'm too wide to avoid a woman's teeth and it's uncomfortable for them to open so wide for very long.
"Well, I'll come back to that," breathed mom. With her wide tongue she got me good and wet, aimed me into Sam and I pressed slowly into the slim woman. Sam MMMMmmmmm'd again. Then mom rose, unbuttoning her shirt. Now, where to look? At the lithe and frantic daughter trying to be one with my cock or the more voluptuous mother in the mirror peeling off the blouse and black lacy bra beside me? A well-filled bra it was, too. Her breasts hung heavy, definitely a pair that had been suckled, but full and with nipples jutting upward, dark and thick.
Quickly she wiggled out of her jeans and panties, then pulled my head down and kissed me, leaning those jugs into my arm, hot and soft, running a hand through my chest hairs, brushing pinbahis giriş (https://hocanonbo.com/category/pinbahis/) my nipples. I felt her bush grind into my thigh, got a taste of the salty musk on her lips - Sam's juices and mine.
"'So he fills you good, Sam?" she said, reaching down to where daughter and I were joined. "How's this?' And she divided two fingers around my cock, running one down each side into the seams of Sam's sopping vulva, making a tight passage for me. Sam groaned, "yeah, right there." I slowly dragged in then out, catching my corona on those fingers, then pushing back in to the heat.
"You know the clitoris is a larger organ than they taught us in school, "mom said, "She's got arms that run back around the mouth of the pussy and extend back up inside." Mom slowly sawed her fingers up and down the crease, curling and pressing knuckles against Sam's labia, locking eyes with her daughter in the mirror. Sam shook and mewed, raised her head and howled in orgasm while mom kneaded our union with one hand and gripped my ass with the other.
"See what the right pressure in the right place does?," mom smiled, watching her daughter shudder through a cascade of peaks as I kept up a steady, firm thrusting. "This man's like an old bull, honey. Legs like trees, ass like a rock, steady as a freight train."
As Sam softened, mom took her dripping fingers and presented them to my mouth. I sucked the two in, used my tongue to tease the web between them, tasting Sam and me again. "Make me wet," said mom, wiping those fingers through her own snatch and offering them to me again.
"Gee, mom, aren't you always wet?" teased Sam. I gave those fingers a couple more mouthfuls, mom smeared herself, turned to lie on the desk beside her daughter, took her hand and said, "my turn."
I obliged. Took my purple tool and found mom's hot, wet center. She had more cushion for the pushin' but she was tight and hot and slippery. Pressing in slowly, I was engulfed. The two women looked into each other's eyes as I pumped.
"Thick, right?" said Sam, smiling, her free hand cupping her red, swollen pussy.
"Yep, I'm full". Mom jiggled, I thrust, flesh squeaked along the glass. Sam rose and lay her cheek on her mom's ass, looking at me hungrily, half-lidded. "We should form 'The Ladies Bull Riding Society'", she mused as I kept the rhythm.
"I want to taste you, too," said Sam, and she pressed back on my hip til I was out and wagging at her mouth. She opened and took my knob gently between her lips, running her tongue around it. I held it there, let her savor it, until she grasped me and pressed me back into her mom again. Drool ran down mom's ass-cleft and Sam brought a finger to the rosebud and caressed it. I felt fingers tickling my balls and knew Sam was attending to her mom's clit, too. Seems like these two had done this together before, don'tcha think, Daniel?
Sam slipped the tip of a finger in her mom's ass and the older woman AAAaahhhh'd. "Now I'm fuller. So good," she sighed. Each time I eased myself in my pubes drove Sam's finger into her ass and I felt the knuckle as my corona slid deep. She was even tighter now and I drove harder, faster, our flanks slapping, sweat running. Mom shook and grunted, face red and tight in climax, hair plastered to her forehead, making nonsense noises, hissing spit.
Sam leaned to her moms' ear as the older woman sagged. "Happy mother's day, sexy." she whispered.
"You know what's cool?" Sam said, looking at our sweaty tangle of bodies in the mirror, "your friend Daniel's masturbating to this right now."
"What?" I panted.
"Well, it's your fantasy. We're your fantasy. And you're describing this all to Daniel, so why wouldn't he be?"
Honestly, Daniel, I hope you are yankin' your crank and I hope you're doing it guilt-free. But my brain's too sex-fogged to unravel this Inception-level puzzle. Maybe we can pitch the idea to Christopher Nolan one day.
"What if Daniel were coming over to one of your courtyard meetings?," asked Sam, "and you forgot so he came looking for you and walked in here? I'd like that next time."
"Oooh, me too!" gasped mom as I twitched in her. I guess I liked the idea, too.
"Next time we'll do some bull riding, OK, mom?" Sam said, hand on her shoulder, "but this time let's end him with dueling harmonicas."
"Yeah, I'm good with that." mom said and looked back at me. "Lay out here on the desk, my minotaur." So I did. I slid out of mom, eased back on the warm, wet glass and let my legs hang. My cock, wet and red and stiff lay on my belly, dripping.
The Lady Bull Riders came at me from both sides, arms resting on my body, as Sam grasped my sticky cock and raised it to her mother's smiling mouth. Too big for one, I'm enough for two creative women. A pair of lips sliding up each side of my tool, they worked their mouths and tongues along my ridges and pulsing shaft, slowly rising to share the head, tongues fluttering around, pressing, sucking, stroking in the ooze of each of their pussies. I was nearing my end, too, and fluids leaked steadily. The women licked it up, grinning at each other as they brought me closer. They knew exactly what to do. I got a breast in each hand, one small and tight, the other heavy and full and felt their hard nipples against my tingling palms.